


Fragments from an old elven diary

by buckles



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Qunari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 05:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4906615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckles/pseuds/buckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The diary is nearly falling to pieces and has several moth-holes throughout. It was carefully retrieved from an expedition to an elven ruin in the far north of Thedas near Qundalon. Some pages are still legible, however.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragments from an old elven diary

1.

War is inevitable. We look towards the bickering of our Gods and we see what is soon to come. A war, to end all wars. Fire, ablaze across the sky. We look to Her and we stand ready. We honor Her and we honor Her people for what is about to happen. 

She will have an army rivalling all others, if I am successful. She has shown me the way. Give me strength. 

2.

The site is north. Far north than any known settlement. I have convinced a small contingent to join me and the other of the holy order to tend to the castle. I could not tell them of their true purpose. It matters not. They belong to Her. They will serve Her. 

The fighters of course will be spared. They will be unharmed. We cannot bring harm to the creature any more than is absolutely necessary. She forbids it. I forbid it. The blow must be swift, but it must be true. It is a holy duty. 

3.

The sacrifice was felled yesterday, I am told. It was bled out into several casks, once used for wine, apparently. How irony follows us still! 

I think about the creature still. It haunts my dreaming. The guilt of this death weighs on my conscience, but I remind myself of the duty to come and that this is all which must be done in Her name. So She will be triumphant. 

The plans continue on the merging... the hybridization. "Like cross-breeding plants," they tell me. I nod. They see to matters of the arcane. I see to matters of faith. We will join together soon. 

4\. 

The first of the joinings began today. We were never going to get it right on our first attempt. A prisoner, secreted away with our caravan. We couldn't start with the others. Not so soon. Better this man, a man which nobody remembers. Who will be easily forgotten. Our first candidate.

He did not seek my help. He just stared and shivered and whimpered. Better his body be put to use, to serve our God, to more easily bring her new army. I felt sick. Sick that we were putting good blood to use in such a wretch. The majesty of Her creature, felled like a tall tree, put to use in a criminal like this whimpering fool? It disgusted me. I questioned my purpose, silently, after that procedure.

But I was told he was an excellent specimen. A copious amount of data retrieved, dutifully scribbled down on several sheaves of paper. 

5.

Some come to the room, strapped to the chair, hurling obscenities at us. Some come and whimper and shiver and do not say a word. Some come and invoke the Dread Wolf's name -- those joinings always go swiftly.

Some beg for mercy. A man... one of the cleaning staff was selected. Tall, muscular. The others smile and nod vigorously. There is hope still. With each new joining our chances for success increase tremendously. I look to the halla, mounted above the chamber, and make a silent prayer. 

"Please! Don't kill me!"

I motion to the others to wait. I walk down the steps and across the floor to the chair. "My son, you will be reborn." I smile widely at him, with Her fervor in my voice. "You will be the vanguard of Her glory! We will ride swift like Her halla, and crush those who seek her end. Don't you want to be a part of this?"

"No." he says. The man quivers, shrinking away from me. 

"Do you not love Her enough to give of yourself to Her?" I ask.

"No." he says again. My heart grows cold, and I walk back to safety. "You are the property of Ghilan'nain, to do with as She sees fit. If you cannot give of yourself freely, then we will offer you to Her."

I motion to the others, and they work the apparatus. And I am ashamed. I could not show the man Her love and kindness. I was upset. I grew _impatient_. 

But as the screaming continued I did not hear it cease with the familiar twisting of bone and rending of flesh. I looked up, and saw the candidate taller, broken free of the restraints, legs like mighty vhenadahl, horns sprouting on his head, a memory of the divine sacrifice we made. 

Success. Success! Praise Ghilan'nain! Praise Her name! Her warriors will bring wrath to the Heavens! Rejoice!


End file.
